


He Handed Me the Key

by theFateofYou



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Elvhen, Elvhen Language, Elvhen Lore, Elvhenan, Elvhenan Culture and Customs, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Peace, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Well of Sorrows (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-22 19:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21307385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theFateofYou/pseuds/theFateofYou
Summary: The events of the Well of Sorrows occur differently than before. The Inquistion visiting weeks before Corypheus learned of it. There, Lavellan makes a choice over the Well, and finds comfort in a lover and a stranger.
Relationships: Abelas (Dragon Age)/Original Character(s), Abelas/Female Inquisitor, Abelas/Female Lavellan, Female Inquisitor & Solas, Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan & Solas
Comments: 14
Kudos: 25





	1. It Cannot be Helped

"You trespass shem! Leave this sacred place!" 

Mathelina tilted her gaze up to the elf who stood upon the raised terrace. His face partially hidden by his hood, and yet she could still see the disgusted curl in his lips; a look she had spent ages knowing, but never on the lips of her own kind. She slung her weapon upon her back, the longbow nearly scrapping on the ground before it clicked in the hook. Holding up both hands as she strode forward, feeling the tense gaze and bowstrings of every sentienel in the space. "We did not come to harm or steal from you. We came to see why our enemy is interested in this place. We had no idea that it was already defended by my people."

It was the truth. Leliana had caught a courier of Corypheus', running a report, and from the report they read of some vir'abelasan. Morrigan had quickly commenced her research, and came to the conclsuion that the ancient magister was trying to collect eluvians. With them, he might slip between worlds, and arrive near anywhere one was held. A dangerous tool, and one he did not yet have thanks to Leliana's spymastery. It was an easy decision on Mathelina's part, and she had arranged for herself, Morrigan, and Solas to travel to this place. To see what Corypheus was so eager to gain, and how they could prevent it from happening. Never expecting it to still be guarded.

It was by Mathelina's insistence, that the party had followed the intricate rituals of the temple. This was her heritage, her past, and she would see every ritual respected. If she could not recover her people's history, she would keep to what remained. From the ironbark bow on her back, to the tattoos upon her face; Falon'din kept close to her in the rich shade of brownish-black ink. The rituals, the steps, and the language led them to hear. Held at arrow-point by the guardians of the past. Addressing her like she was some tomb raider and not of the same heritage. 

The leader's voice echoed again as he spoke. Just as terse and short as before. "You invade the temple of Mythal and have awoken its guards from Uthenera, claiming to be saving us from another violence. As far as I am concerned, you are no better than the shem who have attempted to invade this place before."

That stung. Less that he thought they were invaders, and more that she was shem. Human. That the pride and history that weighed her every step meant nothing. Mathelina barely bit back her words, her eyes narrowing and the mark hissed and sparked with her. Solas stepped in. Sliding his hand down her arm, a sense of spirit and peace washing over her. Giving the elf a moment to calm herself, and letting her heart address the elvhen for her. 

"Andaran atishan, elvhen. My name is Solas. The inquisitor speaks the truth. A Tevinter magister searches for this place, that he might use the vir'abelasan to access the remaining eluvians. We know not what it is, nor do we have interest in taking it. Only safeguarding it from a greater evil." he paused, looking over the elves with his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "You are...of Arlathan. That is why you have utilized the Uthenera, to sleep until the temple is disturbed. That means you understand how dangerous Tevinter is. Which is why I ask that you let us be in peace. To share information that the vir'abelasan does not fall into dangerous hands."

The hooded elf paused, gently gripping his own chin as he muttered to himself for a moment. Mathelina watched in near awe. These were...the elvhenan. The first elves. Her ancestors. The knowledge they must have, the history of her people. Her anger quickly shifted into an unending want to ask questions. What was Arlathan like? How had the elvhen been immortal? To learn language and history and magic. But now wasn't the time, and she had a feeling that this man would not indulge a woman he saw as 'shem' with such knowledge. Was her history to always be lost to her. The leader broke the silence, his greaves clicking on the tiled floor as he paced, "You have observed our traditions, and shown no violence towards us. I have heard of the spies in the area, searching for this place, and they carry a dangerous taint with them...very well. I will show you what it is that your rival so desperately seeks, but be warned. I will not let it fall into the hands of you strangers."

The bows went lax, and Mathelina felt her shoulders drop. Thank June Solas was such a smooth talker. If it had been her or Morrigan, they would be dead by now. Trying to hide the spring in her step, Mathelina took the stairs up. Following Solas and the stranger as quick as she could. Constantly stopping to look at the murals of gold and bronze tile. Faces she knew and faces she didn't know. Unable to read the elvhen scrawl upon the walls and pillars. Like a child. When she finally caught up to the two elves, the leader turned. His heels clicking together and he gave a soft gesture; crossing his arms in a way that reminded her of her clan's greeting back home. Mathelina nearly fumbled the gesture in her excitement to repeat it. Almost missing the twitch to his lips, and to Solas' too. "I am Abelas. I am the leader of the sentinels here."

"Mathelina, of the Lavellan Clan." she whispered back, breaking into a grin that crinkled her eyes and dimpled only her left cheek. It was at this time, that the so far silent apostate chimed in. Morrigan striding in with as much pomp as usual. Her eyes taking in the great halls. "This is quite the temple. I am curious. This vir'abelasan, the path of sorrows. Is it similar to the rituals we walked before, and leading to the eluvian?"

"No." Abelas shorted, the soft twitching smile in his lips vanishing as Morrigan spoke and he turned away. Continuing to head in an unknown direction. He made a beckoning gesture before looking over his shoulder at Mathelina, who quickly picked up step to walk with him. The archer was quickly flanked by Solas, and she gave him a grin. Her eyes dancing with excitement at all before him, and she could read the same look in his eyes; if better controlled behind that patient smile of his. He knew her quirks well, and moved with her in the quick beat that made this tangled romance. Tempering her quick to action behaviour while she sped up the over-analytical man. 

"The vir'abelasan is not a path. It is...knowledge. Our knowledge. All the history and memories of every acolyte of Mythal. Gathered into a single well. If this magister wishes to have it, the information would grant him power beyond your mortal understanding. Thousands of years of history."Abelas broke the silence as he raised up the magic stairs of stone. Taking them quick enough, and Mathelina was right on his heels. She could not deny that her heart beat faster at the thought. That she might learn her history so easily, just by visiting a well. Morrigan beat her to the question, "So, one need only drink from this well, and gain the knowledge? Seems a useful tool, not a dangerous one."

Abelas sneered, "The well extracts a terrible price for the person who drinks it. Becoming the sole vessel of vir'abelasan, you become the well of sorrows. All that knowledge, locked away in your head. Binding you to Mythal. It is not something to be taken lightly, nor to be bestowed upon strangers."

"It would be a waste to let it just sit here. If Mythal even exists, what price could be exacted to have that knowledge. A foolish waste." the apostate snapped back, and Mathelina almost laughed at the near identical sneer both she and Abelas held upon their faces. She reached out, touching Morrigan's arm and giving her the best 'I'm in charge' look she had. "Morrigan, we're not here to steal the well away. Merely to protect it from Corypheus."

She looked ready to retort, but then the well came into view. The perfectly still, crystalline blue water bringing them all to a stunned silence. Vegetation grew all around, but none touched the well. It stood as clean and new as the day it was built, millennia ago. Symbols carved into the rim of the well, nay it was more a pool. Waist deep, still, and surrounded by mirrors. Well, Morrigan had been right in one account. It was, beautiful. The still waters defying the wind and tremble of the world, never moving. It radiated a type of forlorn and forgotten ache that Mathelina had never known. Looking into the waters, and knowing that all her clan had lost, was hidden in its crystal depths. Her heritage, her name, everything. The ache pulled a tear slowly down her cheek, and she didn't notice as she was lost in the feeling of abandoment. All of this knowledge, and it was gone. Stolen away by shem and war and time. She would stay true to her word, and the well would never give her that knowledge. Nor Corypheus if she had her way.

Mathelina was pulled from her thoughts as she felt an icy, gauntlet hand on her cheek. Wiping away the tear on her cheekbone before it could fall any further. She met Abelas' steely grey eyes, and felt seen; that she stood as some type of equal to him. "Your people have lost much. This must be painful." he muttered, and Mathelina nodded silently; fearing her voice would crack, yet she tried anyway. "They are your people too."

She waited for his rebuttal, but Abelas said nothing. Walking away to the well, and Solas replaced him. Taking her hand and giving her a silent glance, and she knew he was checking her over. Making sure he had left no harm or mark. It was always in the silence that he was the softest. Mathelina trailed her gaze from him, to Abelas again. Watching him talk measured steps towards the pool. Every gestured seemed measured, as though he had performed it countless times in his head before enacting the movement. Walking the edge of the pool before spinning to face them. "For millennia I have slept and guarded this place. And now, a force comes that will tear all asunder. I have heard the reports. This magister follows but a week away. Soon, he will raze my home to the ground for this knowledge. He will win, regardless of how we fight."

"Then let us take the well! We can use it!" Morrigan interrupted, strolling forward with a clear purpose. Mathelina grabbed her arm. Probably tighter than necessary, but she would not let her so easily strip away the history of this place. "That is enough Morrigan! That is not why we came, and I would not see such knowledge fall into unknown hands."

"You are like a glutton at a feast! Drooling at the sight of your next meal." Solas hissed in agreement, stepping in front of the apostate to stand by Mathelina's side. His calm presence a saving grace, and she could hear Abelas relax as they held back their companion. The witch snapping her arm back and taking a few steps back. "You would, waste this knowledge! I am the only one who can use. I am the only one with the knowledge to do so. Who is better qualified than I?"

"We are not taking this well! We will defend it, but I will not betray what trust Abelas has bestowed to us! This is not ours to take but to defend." Mathelina stated firm, planting her feet in the ground. Morrigan did that infamous sneer of hers, "You would pass up this knowledge. Even if it meant the history of your people was lost?"

"The history of my people, lives on in my people. I do not need the vir'abelasan to carry on the legacy of my people." 

"Do you mean that?" It was Abelas who chimed in this time. His voice calm, like the crystal waters. Steps chiming as he walked forward. That same, contemplating twist to his brow. "I was planning to destroy this well, before this magister could take it, but perhaps...there is another way. You demonstrate...no want for a power so great. Perhaps that is why you should be entrusted with it."

"It would be squandered on her!"

"Do not do this vhenan. You do not know what it would mean to be bound to Mythal."

Her companions spoke quickly, overlapping each other, but Mathelina did not hear any of it. Her eyes trained on Abelas. He would, give her this history willingly, because she would not take it by force. He was right. Either the well was destroyed or Corypheus took it. Now, there was a third version. Morrigan would not always be a part of the inquistion. She would be able to leave, and then there is no telling what she would do with the well's knowledge. But...if she had it. The understanding it could bring. Teaching her people their history, stopping Corypheus, and saving the world. She took the outstretched hand, "For the world...for my people....I have sacrificed much already. This is but one more thing I will undertake for their sake."

There was no need to argue. Neither Solas nor Morrigan tried to stop her. Abelas held her hand, and walked her to the edge of the pool. Mathelina bit back a groan as the anchor pulsated. Attracted to the power before her. One item at a time, Mathelina stripped from her armour. Leaving her in nothing but trousers and bandages, piling the leather in a careful pile. Her braids undone, and the auburn locks spilled down past her hips. She cast Solas one last look, and she saw only fear in his eyes. Anxiety of what such information could do to her mind. "Remember when we talked about heroes Solas? This is what heroes do."

She reveled in the soft smile he gave, and looked away before it could disappear. Stepping slowly into the well with a gasp, Abelas with a hand in hers and a hand on her back; walking into the well with her, still armoured. "Take a deep breath. Then drink. I will catch you if you fall." he whispered softly, releasing her hands, and Mathelina walked to the centre of the pool on her own. Even now, the water didn't ripple. Rather, it clung to her. Somehow hot and cold, leaving icy crystals on her skin that melted away just as fast. She felt things rush past her submerged legs, and yet saw nothing. A gentle echo surrounding her, and she could hear her own breathing echo back. 

It took control to scoop up the water. The handful not wanting to separate from the well, and it stung and nipped the nerves in Mathelina's hands as she pulled it to her lips. She did not take a moment to pause or contemplate her situation. There was no backing out now. The water slipped past her throat, and it felt like it clung to her esophagus. Trying to push its way back out as it frozen and burnt her. Then, it all slipped down and the water burst from the well.

All the pain vanished. The water vanished and Mathelina could freely move as the water turned into smoke around her. Hiding her companions, the temple, and the sky. Only her and the spirit-like faces that swam around her. Whispering in the elvhen tongue, and she did not know it, yet she understood all the same. Who was she? What did she want? What price was she willing to pay?

Her voice echoed and yet was completely stolen away, "I am Mathelina Lavellan! I am here to stop Corypheus from destroying this world and the Fade! That is my sworn duty, and I will pay any price that you ask of me!"

They accepted, and Mathelina screamed. The spirits grabbing her skin, crawling under it like a thousand needles as they branded her. Marking the deal she had struck and ripping apart her corporealness in the process. It felt not unlike the anchor when it made her awaken in a cold sweat the next day but now coalesced over her entire body. Her mind felt heavy and overrun by the voices of the past. Millennia of language, history, and culture rushing into her mind before vanishing under the weight of it all. Only time would give her the skill to remember and understand it all.

Her body suddenly came back into weight, and Mathelina collapsed over. Sound, colour, touch, everything flooding back in as her soul was put back into her body. Waking and shaking, her being held by the very man who had guided her into the pool. He pulled a gauntlet off and wiped frost off her left cheek, and Solas ran in to her vision as well. Taking her other side as they melted away the frost from her skin, and cooled the burns that rested underneath it all. He looked...familiar. Mathelina grabbed Solas' hand, her mind sparking with images and scenes of fire and destruction. A gasp running through her, and she tightened her grasp as much as she could. "I know...who you are." she spat out, more to be said, but the world faded to black.


	2. They Have No Answers for Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathelina slips into unconsciousness, and dreams vividly of the well and the people within it.

"What is this place?" Mathelina asked, walking towards the figure that sat on the edge of a long pond. She knew not who it was, for their back remained turned to her. Instead, they gazed out into the pond. It took her a moment before she realized where this place was, and yet, she should not know it at all. A lake from the Brecilian forest. Cool water surrounded by forest. A soft call echoed behind her, and Mathelina looked over her shoulder to see the pen of halla. A statue of Ghilan'nain, headless, standing guard over the halla that she loved so dearly...Did she? Her eyebrows twitched at the idea, some notion rejecting the idea that the halla herding goddess was something more than that. She looked back to the stranger, pointing at the herd of halla, and then to the empty aravels further up the path. "This is...Ferelden. But I have never been here...because...this..."

No, she had been here before. A very long time ago. A time when she was an infant, and her memory had failed to recall. She knew a different clan was there now, but before that, it was another. Her mother's clan. The Sabrae clan, and her mother Mahariel. She should have remembered none of it. Mahariel had given her away as an infant, unable to handle a child when she was so young. And yet, this was the place of her birth. She would have seen these waters, only once, when the Lavellan clan took her into their arms. It was a long forgotten thought, and now, a perfectly clear memory. Right down to the ripples in the pond as the stranger kicked at the water.

"This was your home...Nina." the stranger called out, and Mathelina flinched. Nina, her birth name. Before she had changed it to Sulanina in her apprenticeship, and then to Mathelina again with the Inquisition. She had not been Nina since she was a little girl. Yet, this stranger knew her. "How did you know my child na-" Mathelina stopped as the stranger stood, and turned to look at her. A Dalish. Blonde, blue-eyed, tattooed and smiling. Her jaw dropped, instantly recalling whom this man was, even though she had only seen his face once. "Dad?" Mathelina whispered, already feeling her eyes grow wet. She could feel it. Every memory, every thought of this man pulsating through her mind. How he had loved her, had loved her mother, and the pain of giving her away. How he had died, driven mad by an eluvian and into the arms of the darkspawn. His memories, taken by the eluvian to the vir'abelasan, and now, apart of her. Her voice broke, as she whispered once again, "Daddy?"

"Its me Nina." he smiled, looking like a young and foolish man as the day she had seen him. That brief glimpse when he had held her newborn frame, before he vanished from her life forever. She had never considered Mahariel her mother, nor this Tamlen her father, but now...feeling the regret, the pain of losing her. She knew that they had always loved her. The adoption a forced affair that neither of them wanted. Now, here he was. He opened his arms, and Mathelina darted into them. Embracing him tightly and inhaling the sent of pine. Her father whispered into her auburn hair, "I am, so sorry da'len. We never wanted to give you up. Lindianai...she loved you so much. We were ready, but...but the keeper didn't agree."

"I know...I can hear it." Mathelina whispered, holding him so tightly she feared he would disappear in her arms, like a memory faded. Yet, he didn't and she could hear his words before he said them. A part of the vir'abelasan, and now a part of her. The fact of it hit quickly, and she pulled away. Looking him up and down. "But you...you died. The corrupt eluvian, and the memory transfer. Saying goodbye...to mom. Why are you here now?"

The memory was a violent one. Tamlen's death. Mahariel holding him as she drove the knife rib deep. Her mother...the hero of Ferelden...that explained how easily she fell into the role of Inquisitor at least. It was so much information. Thousands of lifetimes trying to enter her thoughts, but she held fast to this one. To her father, and his memories, and his voice here. Tamlen smiled, gesturing for her to sit on the ground with him, and in the most fatherly of gestures, began to braid her hair back. "I'm here, to guide you. The vir'abelasan could overwhelm your mind, and make you lose all sense of self. Lose your individuality among the throngs of voices. When we, realized you had a connection to one of us, we knew this would be the easiest way to adjust to the information."

"We? But I thought..it was you." she muttered, not entirely understanding. Tamlen sighed softly, finishing the braid and starting another, "Its not...me. The person before you here isn't my spirit. Just, a reflection of the memories held by the vir'abelasan. As an adjustment period to the information. But, we know that Tamlen loved you. He and your mother, was the last thoughts he had. I hope this is okay."

The figure no longer felt like fatherly love. But a distant memory of a man she had never known. Tamlen, or the Well, shifted. The form wavering, and he gave her a smile. "I know, its hard, and the information will take a while to process, but I'll be here to help. We all will. Soon, you will know more than your father's memories. You will know the history of all of the Elvhenan. But, this is enough for now. Its time for you to wake up and start to adjust to...to us being with you."

Tamlen helped her stand, and guided Mathelina to the edge of the lake. Looking out into the wide, beautiful features. The call of the halla feeling so much like home. She felt his warm hand on her back, holding her up, and she looked over to Tamlen. "Wait...before I go...show me...show me her. My mother."

The figure smiled, and tapped the side of his head. "You already know what she looks like Nina. Recall her. Tamlen's memories. Your memories. Picture her, here. On the edge of the lake. Pull her into memory. What Tamlen knows of her...it is part of you too." 

Mathelina nodded, closing her eyes. Focusing on the fuzzy image, dragging it into her mind til it made her head throb. Then, she opened her eyes, and looked at the new figure to join her. Lanky, dark of hair and eye. Eyes so much like her, though the green spark through them had made that difference longer. A face constructed to hold a frown easier than a smile, much like her own. Mahariel reached out, and Mathelina fell into the hug. She felt the arms that Tamlen had known, that she had felt once. Strong, built for archery, and the scent of the kill never leaving her body. The scent of the taint from the last time Tamlen saw her. 

Then it vanished. The lake vanished, and Mathelina spun to look at Tamlen; slowly fading away. "Trust Abelas. He knows much, and can help you. And Solas..." the voices began to echo and overlay. Thousands upon thousands of voices calling out on top of each other. An outside force pushing against til she could not hear what they said. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Vhenan!" Solas jumped to attention as Mathelina came to from her slumber. Shooting up in a cold sweat, her mind throbbing as she tried to calm the constant echo in her mind. Thousands of people, all clamouring for attention. She clutched at her head, feeling that it could rip apart if she did nothing. Then Solas' hands curled over her skull. A cool, calming spirit washing over her skin. Quieting it all until she could feel only him. Solas gave a gentle smile, "Its your mind. Its only you. Breathe."

Deep, long breathes. Letting Solas' magic fight back the other voices as she regained control. As he pulled away his hands, the voices stayed pressed down. Mathelina forcing her way into control as her thoughts took precedent to the others. That would certainly take time to get used to that, constant body of people. Solas grabbed a cup from nearby, wrinkling at the smell of the tea as he passed it to her. "I searched for you in the fade, but I found nothing. You were not truly asleep. What did you see?"

"My birthplace. My father, Tamlen. He was...connected to the well, so they used him as a focal point. It was nice, to meet him. I learned of my mother. The famed hero of Ferelden." she muttered, drinking tea which had long since gone cold. It was the thought that counts. Solas showed nothing on his face, but she was used to that at this point. The quiet silence and unreadable expression. Yet, he held her hand, and leaned her way, and she knew he was listening. He nodded, pulling himself from thought with visible effort. "It makes sense. A guide to the vir'abelasan. This information will truly be invaluable to your cause, Inquisitor."

"You can call me Mathelina Solas. You've shared my touch long enough." she teased softly, finishing the last of the tea. Just in time, the door swung open, and Abelas walked in with a tray. He gave Solas a nod, and the man returned it as Abelas sat on the edge of the bed. "Good, you're awake. Sleeping too long, you could get lost in your thoughts."

"You've seen this happen before?" Mathelina asked, and took the fresh, hot tea from Abelas' hands as he offered it. The warmth flooding her system and waking her up from a coma-like exhaustion in her limbs. Abelas nodded, passing a bowl of soup next and dropped the tray to the floor. "I have only seen one other person to drink of the well. They went into a coma afterwards, and never woke up again. A few days after, the well filled itself as though he had never been there before. I feared the same would happen to you when you lost consciousnesses . Perhaps I was right to have faith in you after all."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Mathelina chuckled, eagerly gulping down the stew; fresh vegetable and rabbit that hit a very hungry Dalish. Solas seemed less pleased, his grip on her hand tightening as he gave Abelas a famous, irritated glare, "You knew this could happen, and yet said nothing?"

"I warned the well was dangerous. Mathe'len took the risk willingly." he retorted, and Mathelina almost choked on the stew. Mathe'len. A pet name of sorts. Like 'dear' or 'darling'. The Dalish had never had a personalized pet name before, even Solas called her 'Inquisitor'. Speaking of Solas. She had never seen him look so angry, and by angry, his brows had furrowed and he was glaring more intensely than before. Abelas quirked a brow, "Should I not? After all, you are my responsiblity now."

"No its fine...wait, how am I your responsiblity? And why am I so hungry?" Mathelina asked between mouthfuls, and Abelas passed her a napkin as he explained; wiping a drip off her chin as the elf ate, feeling starving despite the short passage of time. "My job is to guard the vir'abelsan. You, are now the vir'abelasan. By that ruling, it is my job to watch over you. The sentinels and I, will accompany you back to your fortress when you return. You have our full support Mathe'len."

There was a short pause, and then he laughed. A good, strong laugh that didn't match the grumpy exterior that sat on his face. "And the hunger, is because magical forces require more nutrition. And possibly because I like to think of myself as an excellent cook."


End file.
